


The (Ex) Boy Next Door

by amfiguree



Series: The BFF AU [2]
Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Alternate Reality, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-05
Updated: 2014-02-05
Packaged: 2018-01-11 06:58:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1170046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amfiguree/pseuds/amfiguree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sort of prequel-ish companion piece to "The One Time Nothing Happened", from Archie's POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The (Ex) Boy Next Door

See, the thing is, it's not even David's fault.  
  
That is, okay, it sort of is, but only in that David has really weird friends (but they're all awesome once you get to know them) who think David needs to get out more and stop moping because Cook isn't around--  
  
(which is totally _not true_ , because David always knew Cook was going to make it big one day and it's not like he wishes Andrew never made Cook audition for Idol or anything)   
  
\--and decided that hanging out near the only _sex shop_ in the neighborhood was the way to go about it, oh my gosh. Cook would totally be laughing at him if he knew.   
  
But David hadn't even gone _in_ , okay; the whip and the handcuffs totally weren't his, but Mike had kind of shoved them at him and then disappeared for ice cream, and David's car is at the shop for repairs, so he had to hold on to them. And then a cop had come down the street, whistling _singing in the rain_ to himself, and when he'd seen David, he'd sort of paused and looked at him funny, and David knows that look like the back of his hand, because it's the look Cook used to get _all the time_ , which always meant trouble, so.  
  
So he'd done what he always did; he'd smiled, and said, "Hi, um--"  
  
And he'd ended up in the holding cell in the nearest police station - in jail, oh my gosh - for, like, _public indecency_ or whatever, and when he came in, one of the guys had looked him up and down and sneered and said, "Nice way to celebrate your eighteenth birthday, punk."  
  
David cringes just thinking about it.  
  
They'd made him wait in the cell forever, with a big, burly, African-American guy who wouldn't stop staring in the cell across him, and David had kind of curled in on himself and waited, and waited, until he realized he wasn't going anywhere. They'd only agreed to let him have his one phone call when he asked the fifth time, his eyes a little red and his nose starting to go runny, and it's already three in the morning or something when they finally let him out.   
  
David doesn't try Cook first, although he's tempted. But then Mike doesn't pick up, Claudia's phone is out of range, Kim's cell is totally flat, and it's not like he can call anyone else, because what would he tell them? Also, he kind of needs someone who can post bail.  
  
The guard who's with him is tapping his foot against the floor, clearly impatient, and David feels the hair on the back of his neck stand.   
  
So that's when he tries Cook.   
  
The phone rings _forever_ , and David tries to camouflage into the wall the whole time, tries not to think about _what if he doesn't pick up?_ or _what if he's too busy to talk?_ Because Cook may be all, like, a big Hollywood rock and roll star or whatever now, but he's David's _best friend_ , and even if they haven't had a lot of time to talk lately (Cook's always all, "Dave, listen, I have to call you back, my manager is about to _kill_ me,") that isn't going to change years and years of shared history.  
  
That's when Cook answers. "What?"  
  
David feels the tight knot in his chest come loose, and he gasps out a quiet, thankful, "Oh my gosh."  
  
He doesn't have to say _please come get me_ to know that Cook will.


End file.
